


surprise the others with your own fragility

by kivancalcite



Category: The Thing (1982)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Exhaustion, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Internal Monologue, Isolation, One Shot, Psychological Trauma, Restraints, also this feels quite ooc for someone like mac, but this worked well for when i wrote this, several of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kivancalcite/pseuds/kivancalcite
Summary: A one shot I did quite a while ago that I thought I'd post involving my main The Thing (1982) AU revolving around Mac, delving into the psychological aspects of a potential scenario where this man genuinely wants to give up and get assimilated after a hell of a long period of being beaten down. He's only human, unlike the rest of the crew.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	surprise the others with your own fragility

“What’s the point anymore? You ask me to do shit, I don’t wanna do it, you find a way to get me to do so. I can’t _fucking_ win.”

The thing was silent, standing indifferently in the supply room until it heard those words. Normally it would wonder why Mac continued to risk himself with such aggressive words and actions in the situation he remained in, and yet it stopped, quirking one of the host’s eyebrows.

“What are you _saying?_ ”

Mac’s face both spoke a thousand words and nothing at once. It didn’t appear angry, or upset, or sarcastic, just…blank even as he said those words. He barely even made eye contact, even under a fringe of hair matted by blood and amongst the blood on his own face as he sat with his back to the wall and practically a crumpled husk of his normally aggressive, defensive self. Even just now being locked in the supply room with a single hand handcuffed to a shelf, he didn’t look like he had the will to do _anything_. It was enough to take the thing itself off guard.

“I’m _saying_ …what’s the point in being human anymore? I’ve tried and frankly you should just do your usual… _thing_ and turn me into one of you. I don’t give a _shit_ anymore.”

He clearly sounded bitter and tired, still emphasis with that tone but his vacant expression didn’t change. 

“Just fucking _do_ it. Isn’t that what you want? Maybe you should’ve done it earlier.”

Normally the thing would lash out at his tone and words, but it was taken aback. It’d decided from the beginning for Mac of all people to remain human. After all, they couldn’t possess the whole of a person, as everyone had individual personalities that ran deeper than appearance and surface personality and conscious memory. The man in front of them had possessed a depth of useful knowledge and leadership qualities. Though they wanted him to break and give in, it was nonetheless an experience to see him reduced to such a state he’d beg to be assimilated.

Mac didn’t want to get to this point. He was vehement and aggressive from the beginning, an already paranoid man hellbent on burning these aliens alive even if it appeared a suicidal mission. He didn’t think he’d reach this point, but being broken and beaten down after what felt like an eternity proved that wrong. 

He was _tired_. He always was, but now he really, _really_ was. Too tired to even do shit. Sure, he’d be part of a species destined to spread across the entire planet, but whatever morals he had left wouldn’t matter being one of them. If that was any comfort, not having to worry about that. He wouldn’t compromise any morals, because he wouldn’t have any. That’s what he eventually told himself.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to beg for that route.” The thing eventually spoke, putting on an expression of distaste. Usually it would be all too inclined to go ahead and assimilate, it was part of an instinct, but something told them differently with him. They were strategic too, and not simply animalistic, even as they knew that’s all he saw them as. 

Mac’s eyes finally flickered upwards to meet a blank, cold gaze, his own face unflinching. “You didn’t expect, and yet here I am,” he bitterly spat, “so why don’t you do what you should’ve done a long time ago? Not like you haven’t done the same with the rest of my crew.”

There was a slight smirk on the thing’s face as this. Still a spark, but not enough. The man looked completely burnt out and nothing seemed to build up that fire they once saw in his blue eyes when he tried to burn them alive when they assimilated his friends. That’s what they always had been to him, what else were they? 

But the thing appeared to have other ideas, certain intentions flickering in their eyes. They leant down, eyes almost level with Mac’s, to still demonstrate their position of superiority. “Maybe you should think twice about how useful you are to us,” it spoke, a clear sense of self-satisfication working back into its voice like waves washing up the shore, “since you’re so _willing_ to get what you want.”


End file.
